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THE MAGIC BOX 


BY 

ANITA B. FERRIS 


Published jointly by 

COUNCIL OF WOMEN FOR HOME MISSIONS 
and 

MISSIONARY ISDUCATION MOVEMENT OF THE 
UNITED STATES AND CANADA 
NEW YORK CITY 



COPYBIGHT, 1922, BY 

COUNCIL or WOMEN FOB HOME MISSIONS 

AND 

MISSIONABY EDUCATION MOVEMENT OF THE 
UNITED STATES AND CANADA 


Pbinted in the United States of Amebica 

JliL 18 1922 


©CI.AB77554 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTBE PAGB 

I A Dollar for College 1 

II A Eide for the Doctor 

III Up North . 37 

IV The Lost Pocketbook . . . . .51 

' V Caroline’s Play 73 

VI The Magic Box ...... SS- 



A DOLLAR FOR COLLEGE 



I 1 







I 


A DOLLAR FOR COLLEGE 

W hew I ’ ’ wMstled Lincoln, ^ ‘ but this 
water am cold!’^ It was no joke 
to wade a creek in November, but in this 
corner of the South, where there were more 
Negro boys and girls than white, and where 
farms stretched for many square miles in 
every direction, there were very few 
bridges. The farmers, white and black, 
drove their carts and wagons, their mules 
and horses, and their automobiles, when 
they chanced to have them, right through the 
streams where they were shallowest. All 
the country folk knew where the fords were 
best and which roads to take in bad weather. 

^‘Must ’a’ been a right smart lot o’ rain 
up country yesterday!” Lincoln leaned 
over to roll his trousers a little higher, and 
then, with one final dash which sent a 
shower of drops over him from head to foot, 
he ran up the far bank and threw himself 
down to dry his brown legs as best he could 
with his coat sleeve. 

1 


2 


THE MAGIC BOX 


‘‘I wonder,’’ he said aloud, ‘‘did I git any 
water on Jim’s book ?” He pulled the strap 
from his shoulder and examined his old 
cracked slate and the battered reader on top 
of it. He wiped off a drop with the front 
of his coat. “I sure must git to school early 
befo’ teacher, so she don’ know I took this 
book. She never know I have this book for 
a week, but I sure is gwine to git in Jim’s 
class I I kin read it better ’n he kin now, and 
I’s gwine to be in the top grade!” 

With that, the boy jumped to his feet. 
As he did so, a tattered section of a mail- 
order-book fell from his hip pocket. He 
snatched it up quickly. “I don’ want to 
lose this order book. Lemme see,” he con- 
tinued as he trotted off ; “there’s that piano 
that plays hisself. Georgie sure would like 
that. But how do hit play hisself ? Teacher 
don’ know. ’Pears like she don’ know any- 
thin’ a boy wants to ask her.” He turned 
the page. “An’ a gran’ floor lamp. Sis 
would like that. But how you light hit? 
Hit don’ say. Anyway I ain’t got no 
money.” 


A DOLLAR FOR COLLEGE 


3 


Then his eye fell upon a row of young 
pear trees on the old Templeton plantation, 
— a leaf or two clung yet to the thin, brown 
branches. And, strange to see, each branch 
grew out of a cleft in a sturdy young trunk. 
The trunks had been sawed off at about the 
height of Lincoln’s shoulders from the 
ground, split, and a piece of another tree 
inserted in each, bound, and glued in place. 
Evidently the strange branch had grown 
and put forth twigs and leaves. Lincoln re- 
membered that ‘‘Old Man Templeton” had 
died and now his son had the place. Every- 
body was talking about the new fruit trees 
he was planting and the new and better cat- 
tle with which he was stocking the place. 

“Crackey!” Lincoln exclaimed as he 
looked at the grafted pear tree. “I won- 
der how did anybody ever think o’ that! 
If you kin make one kin’ o’ pear grow out 
o’ nudder kin’ o’ pear trunk, why can’t a 
apple branch grow out o’ it? An’ a nut 
branch, an’ a persimmon?” 

If it was a new idea and no one had ever 
thought of it before, might he not get a lot 


4 


THE MAGIC BOX 


of money for discovering it ? Perhaps then 
he could buy the magic piano which played 
itself for little lame brother Georgie who 
made such beautiful tunes come out of the 
old, battered violin Uncle Ebenezer had 
given them — and the beautiful lamp for 
sister Caroline, who was a year older than 
Lincoln, — and — a new dress for his mother. 

Then there was that wireless apparatus. 
How he would like to get words out of the 
air! He could do it for two dollars and a 
half, the order-book said. He studied the 
pages again as he walked along. 

Suddenly he glanced up at the sun. He 
had forgotten all about school 1 He began to 
run in earnest over the hard, half -frozen 
ground. He had decided on a short-cut 
through the woods, when, far away and 
faint, he heard the sound of the school bell. 
He was late! 

‘‘Lincoln Roosevelt Hall!’^ exclaimed 
Miss Marty as Lincoln pulled open the rick- 
ety door of the schoolroom and stepped in. 
“Ain’t you ashamed of yourself! Late to 
school! You’ve forfeited yo’ seat fo’ the 


A DOLLAR FOR COLLEGE 


6 


moanin’! You can sit on the flo’ with the 
chart class.’’ 

All of the younger boys and girls were 
sitting on the floor around three sides of the 
room for the simple reason that in this little 
Negro district school there were not more 
than half enough seats to go ’round. Only 
the ‘^big class,” the flfth grade, had any 
desks. The fourth, third, and second grades 
had benches, while the unfortunate be- 
ginners, or chart class, and the fiirst grad- 
ers sat on the floor. Lincoln had always 
wanted a desk. When school had opened 
late in October, he had been promoted to 
the bench just behind big fourteen-year-old 
Jim Hobart, sharing his seat and the Fourth 
Header with Sam Williams. It was a dis- 
grace for an eleven-year-old boy to be seated 
with the little ones on the floor. Lincoln’s 
face burned, under his dark skin. His sis- 
ter Caroline, from the third grade seats, 
looked back at him reproachfully. Sam 
poked Elijah Moore in the ribs and giggled. 
Worst of all, big Jim laughed till his shoul- 
ders shook. 


6 


THE MAGIC BOX 


— I didn’t mean to be late,” stammered 
Lincoln. But Miss Marty only waved him 
down to the floor. It was not very comfort- 
able there. The front supports of the little 
one-room school had sagged, so the floor 
sloped downward toward the door. The 
teacher’s desk at the front of the room was 
quite up hill. 

The little chart class children, who had 
neither books nor pencils, were amusing 
themselves by sticking splints and straws 
through the big cracks in the floor, dropping 
them down upon the ground beneath ; while 
the first graders were whispering over the 
readers which they had to share together. 
Lincoln pulled out his slate and began 
slowly to draw upon it. 

Suddenly he heard Jim’s voice. The fifth 
grade was reciting. — I can’t find my 

reader,” stammered Jim. Lincoln rose 
tremblingly to his feet. He had forgotten 
the book! borrowed Jim’s reader, 

please, teacher,” he said in a low voice, as 
he passed it over. 

^‘For what reason did you borrow it?” 


A DOLLAR FOR COLLEGE 


7 


asked Miss Marty. Lincoln hung his head. 
Must his secret come out before he could tell 
Miss Marty he was ready for the big class? 

^‘Did you take that book home?” in- 
quired the teacher. 

‘‘Yes’m,” replied Lincoln. 

‘‘Don’t you know the rules of the school? 
No book is to go home less’n it git lost or 
torn? ,We-all got books for only half of yo’ 
chil’en, an’ no money to buy more. 
must have ’em to study here, and study hard 
ef we-all is ever to git an edication. Lin- 
coln, I ’predate your wantin’ to study Jim’s 
book, but you have broke the rules an’ you 
will have to sit on the flo’ the rest of the 
day.” 

Lincoln turned back slowly to his corner. 
How could he ever get into the big class 
now? Then a suppressed giggle caught his 
ear. He looked up resentfully. Elijah 
Moore had fished the long bit of mail-order 
book out of his pocket and with his pencil 
stuck through it, was crouching under it as 
if it were an umbrella. 

The boy forgot where he was, forgot all 


8 


THE MAGIC BOX 


the other pupils and the teacher. ^‘You 
gimme that book, ’Lija Moore 1’^ he cried, 
springing forward. As he did so he caught 
his foot in the leg of the bench and fell head- 
long upon the grinning Elijah. 

There was a shout of laughter, and the 
boys and girls half rose in their seats to see 
what had happened. 

And then the rickety door opened, and on 
the threshold stood two strangers, a white 
man and a Negro. 

The laughter stopped in the middle, and 
the children dropped shyly back into their 
seats. 

Lincoln left the torn fragments of his 
precious mail-order book on the floor and 
crept back to his place in the corner. 

‘‘Order!’’ called Miss Marty, sternly, and 
the boys and girls turned startled faces 
toward the front of the room. 

“Will you be pleased to enter?” asked 
Miss Marty of her guests. 

“Thank you,” replied the strange white 
man. “May we visit your school? My 
name is Copeland. I am visiting all of the 


A DOLLAR FOR COLLEGE 


9 


colored schools in this county; and this is 
my friend, Mr. Leland, who has just grad- 
uated from an agricultural college in the 
North. He is helping me in my school visit- 
ing.’' 

A Negro man a college graduate! Lin- 
coln stared with the other boys and girls. 

Miss Marty curtsied deeply. ‘‘Please 
to come forward,’' she said. And then, 
since there were no chairs in the room ex- 
cept her own, Sam and Elijah carried up 
their bench. 

“Now, boys and girls,” said Miss Marty 
nervously, turning to the children, “we will 
have some questions. Kin yo’ tell these gen- 
tlemen what is the capital of the United 
States?” 

“District of Columbia!” answered Jim 
promptly. 

“Washington,” whispered Lincoln, be- 
neath his breath. 

“District of Columbia,” echoed the big 
class, the only one that had a geography 
to study. 

And then followed a series of crushing 


10 


THE MAGIC BOX 


mishaps for everyone. Lillian Holt went to 
the blackboard — ^it was made only of boards 
painted black — and wrote ‘^4 + 5 = 8.’’ 
Billy Simmons got stuck on four times six 
and had to count very slowly on his fingers. 
Then came a test in reading for all the 
grades. Little Adelaide Higgins read the 
entire lesson in her Second Reader with the 
book upside down. It sounded all right, 
and Lincoln hoped the visitors did not 
notice. Finally, after many halts, came the 
turn of the fourth grade. Everyone stum- 
bled, and Sam became quite hopelessly con- 
fused. Oh, if Miss Marty would only let 
him take his place in line, thought Lincoln ! 
He, who was the best reader in all the 
school, might redeem himself and let this 
strange young man from college know that 
their school was worth something after all. 
Beseechingly he looked at the teacher, but 
she never once glanced his way. 

Finally the visitors rose to go. ^H’m 
sorry, said Miss Marty, ‘‘but it hasn’t been 
a good day to-day. The chil’en mostly tries, 
but we-all have school only five months a 


A DOLLAR FOR COLLEGE 


11 


year so we can’t learn like those who has 
nine months.” 

‘^But why do you not keep school 
longer?” asked Mr. Copeland. 

‘‘There isn’t money to pay a teacher 
longer, an’ the chil’en has to stay home to 
work durin’ the crop. Their folks are poor. 
[An’, gentlemen, as you-all can see, there are 
books enough for only half the chil’en an^ 
we has only one geography. There ain’t 
seats enough, an’ there’s desks fo’ only 
eight.” 

“I am sure you have done well under such 
handicaps,” answered the gentleman. 

“May I speak to the children?” asked Mr. 
Leland. 

“Proud to have yo’,” answered Miss 
Marty. 

“I just wanted to tell the boys and girls 
about some of the schools they may wish to 
go to after they have graduated from this 
one. Any of them may go if they are will- 
ing to work.” And then he told them about 
the mission schools which had been pro- 
vided for Negro children like themselves;. 


12 


THE MAGIC BOX 


about Tuskegee and about Hampton, from 
wMcb school he himself had graduated be- 
fore he went to the agricultural college. 
Here one could learn to become a trades- 
man, to build a house, to make furniture, 
or to become a skilful farmer or dairyman. 
A girl could learn to be a teacher or a dress- 
maker. Best of all, these schools prepared 
boys and girls to be leaders and helpers 
wherever they went. 

Lincoln listened breathlessly, and then, 
forgetting the disgrace of the morning, he 
raised his hand. Mr. Leland nodded. 

^‘Please, suh,’’ he said, ‘‘do dey graft 
trees at these schools?’^ 

“They certainly do,’^ answered the 
stranger. 

“An’ — d — did any one ever graft onto th’ 
one tree a pear an’ a apple, a nut branch an’ 
a cherry an’ a persimmon?” 

Miss Marty was staring at Lincoln as if 
she thought he had lost his mind, while 
smiles were coming to the faces of the 
^children. 

Mr. Leland slowly shook his head. “No, 


A DOLLAR FOR COLLEGE 


13 


I never heard of a tree grafted in that 
way.” 

^‘But — ^bnt wouldn’t .it be a wonderful 
tree to have?” continued Lincoln. 

^‘It would he a very curious tree,” ad- 
mitted Mr. Leland, ‘‘but I am afraid it 
would hardly pay to graft trees in that way, 
if it could be accomplished. They wouldn’t 
bear enough of any one thing.” 

“Oh,” said Lincoln, while a titter ran 
around the room. 

And then the guests bade them all 
good-by. 

All the miserable afternoon Elijah and 
the other boys asked one another if they had 
heard of the wonderful tree Lin had in- 
vented. A strange and peculiar tree ap- 
peared on the blackboard and was copied 
on slates around the room. 

As soon as school was over, Lincoln darted 
across the fields. He would stand no more! 
At the ford he suddenly stopped, for he 
heard voices and then a great splashing. 
Some one was in trouble. 

One glance was enough. The swollen cur- 


14 


THE MAGIC BOX 


rent had washed the landing away from the 
opposite bank and the stream was rough and 
turbulent in the middle. The buggy of the 
visitors stood midway in the creek, and the 
horse was rearing and plunging. A front 
wheel disappeared and the water entered the 
wagon body. 

“Stiddy !” called Lincoln from the bushes 
on the bank. ^‘HoL him stiddy! Tou-all 
can ’t go f o ’ard. ’ ’ And with a splash the boy 
jumped into the stream and waded toward 
the horse’s head. 

‘‘Stiddy, boy! Stiddy thar!” he coaxed 
as he had talked to his father’s old mule at 
home. Once he stepped into a hole, himself, 
and sank up to his arms. At last he had the 
frightened horse by the bridle and was 
slowly backing him. “Stiddy, boy!” he 
soothed as the horse calmed down. “There, 
Mister,” he concluded, “you can turn hiru 
now, an’ drive out up that a- way.” 

“Well, my boy,” exclaimed Mr. Copeland, 
when they were on land once more, “you 
have saved us a ducking and perhaps more 
serious trouble, for it looked as if Dick, 


A DOLLAR FOR COLLEGE 


15 


here, might break a leg in one of those 
treacherous holes we couldn’t see.” 

Lincoln’s teeth were chattering as he 
stood in his wet clothes. 

‘‘Here, where do you live ?” continued the 
man. 

“On t’other side of the creek, but you-all 
will have to drive down to the main road,” 
replied the boy. 

“All right, we will take you home. It 
must be on our road anyway,” replied Mr^ 
Copeland. 

“Why, weren’t you in District School 
Number 4, that we visited this morning?’’ 
questioned Mr. Leland, as he wrapped the 
lad in the warm lap-robe. 

Lincoln nodded and hung his head. And 
then, somehow, as he rode along with the 
two men, the whole story came out. “An’ 
I sure Tiin read that Fifth Eeader,” he de- 
clared, “an’ I aims to be in that grade ef 
th’ teacher would only let me try.” 

“I wonder if we couldn’t ask her, when 
we write concerning the Institute?” ques- 
tioned Mr. Copeland. 




THE MAGIC BOX 


Mr. Leland nodded. 

Lincoln ’s eyes sparkled. ‘ ‘ Do you reckon, 
Mister Leland, that I kin go to college?’’ 

‘‘Of course,” answered Mr. Leland. 

And then came the story of the pear tree. 
It was not so foolish after all, for both men 
knew of a man who had discovered how to 
grow seedless oranges and strawberries and, 
indeed, had made a new fruit entirely by 
grafting. 

“ ’Deed I’d like to make a new fruit 
grow!” exclaimed Lincoln as they drew up 
in front of his home. 

“Here’s best wishes for your enterprise,” 
and Mr. Copeland left in Lincoln’s palm a 
round silver dollar. 

Lincoln had never had so much money be- 
fore. The boys could not make fun of him 
now ! He was going to college ! 


A BIDE EOE THE DOCTOE 





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II 


A RIDE FOR THE DOCTOR 

C OME, honey, time to git upl’’ called 
Lincoln’s mother softly. 

‘‘Yes’m,” answered the boy sleepily. 
^‘Cornel” repeated his mother. 

Lincoln sat up in bed, dizzily, and looked 
around. Where was he? Surely this was 
not home. Georgie was sound asleep by his 
side, while wedged across the foot of his bed 
in the small room was another bed where 
Caroline was still sleeping, and in which his 
mother had slept. The air was heavy and 
stuffy. In the house next door, so near that 
it seemed the next room, a baby was crying, 
and on the other side of the house a man 
was quarreling. They had no neighbors at 
home; where was he? Lincoln’s head was 
already aching, but it ached harder as he 
tried to understand. Oh, yes, now he re- 
membered. His father had gone up North 
to work, when the crop had failed and their 
landlord had raised the rent of the little 
farm. They had sold the old mule and the 

19 


20 


THE MAGIC BOX 


chickens, and Mammy and sister Caroline, 
little lame Georgie and Lincoln had come to 
the near-by town to live while they waited 
for Pappy ‘^up No’th’’ to earn the money 
to send for them all. 

The smell of bacon came through the 
kitchen door. Slowly Lincoln drew on his 
coat and shoes. It was nicer back in the 
old country home. There they had two bed- 
rooms, a kitchen, and a lean-to. Morning- 
glories grew over the little weather-beaten 
back porch, and sun-flowers in the garden. 
Here, there were but two rooms in the little 
shack they had rented, and the alley was 
close packed with families. Lincoln still 
felt shy among them. 

‘^Come, son,’’ sounded his mother’s voice 
again from the kitchen, hit’s most five 
o’clock, and you’ll be late fo’ yo’ work.” 

And then Lincoln smiled in spite of his 
headache, for had he not been driving the 
milk wagon nights and mornings for old 
Mr. Simmons the whole month they had 
lived in the town ? And to-day was pay day. 
He would receive five dollars, and his mother 


A RIDE FOR THE DOCTOR 


21 


had promised him that one whole dollar he 
might keep for himself for his education. 

He walked over to an old wooden chest 
which stood in one corner and in the half 
darkness pulled out a small, blue tin box. 
Something in it rattled. Yes, it was safe, 
that one precious silver dollar the man from 
the North had given him four months ago. 
Only a little lamp-light shone in from the 
crack of the kitchen door, but Lincoln felt 
the cold silver between his fingers and 
rubbed the date; 1912 — ^he knew it! Then 
he pressed the coin against his forehead. It 
felt good there. 

‘‘Lincoln!’’ called his mother again. 

“Yes, mammy, I’m a-comin’!” he an- 
swered as he went into the kitchen. 

“Now, son, git yo’ water and wash.” 

Lincoln picked up a pail and went out of 
tne door, half way down the alley to a faucet 
from which three women were drawing 
water for their morning cooking. They 
were so long about it that he feared he would 
be late for work, and so he hurried back to 
the kitchen. 


22 


THE MAGIC BOX 


^‘Too many around, Mammy,’’ he 
laughed. Guess I don’t git washed this 
morning.” 

‘‘Well, maybe you git your chanct when 
you go past to work. Here’s yo’ breakfast, 
son.” 

But Lin could nibble only a little at the 
corn pone and bacon; then he snatched his 
cap and ran out of the door. 

At noon, when Lincoln and Big Kastus 
who carried the milk bottles into the houses 
while Lincoln drove the mule, drew up to 
the station, Mr. Simmons called to them: 
“Eastus, you take the mule to the black- 
smith shop to be shod; and you, Lincoln, 
call for him after school and bring him out 
to the farm. Rastus, here’s your money, 
and Lin, when you bring the mule up to- 
night, I’ll give you yours.” 

“All right, suh,” Lincoln answered. His 
money at last! If only his head did not 
ache so, how happy he would be ! 

“Lincoln, Lincoln Hall! Are you asleep 
that you don’t hear me speak to you?” 

Lincoln raised his head with a jerk and 


A KEDE FOR THE DOCTOR 


23 


looked at the teacher. The light from the 
long, uncurtained windows, which he faced, 
dazzled him, and the room seemed very 
warm from the red-hot iron stove in the 
corner. 

‘‘Yes, mum,’’ he answered. 

“How much is five times eight?” 

“Five times eight — five times eight!” 
Had he been asleep ? He could not tell, but 
he was sure he could not remember the an- 
swer. 

‘ ‘ N ext ! ’ ’ called Miss J ohnson. ‘ ‘ Lincoln, 
you surely will lose yo’ place at the head of 
the class if you don’t pay attention.” 

Lose his place ! Lincoln looked down in 
a dazed way at the desk he had been so 
proud of, even if he did have to share it with 
Bill Andrews and Mose Wheatley. The seat 
was meant for only two, but when Lincoln 
came, late in the winter, they had squeezed 
him into the middle. No children sat on 
the floor in this school, but there were three 
boys and three girls in every seat for two in 
the grade, and there were twice as many 
Negro boys and girls in the town as there 


24 


THE MAGIC BOX 


was room in the old school building, so half 
of them came to school in the morning, and 
haK in the afternoon. 

Five times eight ! The question had long 
ago been answered, but Lincoln’s head ached 
so that he could not remember what it was. 
Anyway, teacher was going very fast over 
their number work, for the school year of 
the Negro children was two months shorter 
than that of the white boys and girls, and 
yet they were expected to cover the same 
ground. 

At last school was over, but Lincoln stood 
still in the doorway. What was it he had 
to do ? Oh, yes, get the mule and take him 
out to Mr. Simmons’ farm. The ground had 
a queer way of swinging up to meet him as 
he walked, and he had a sudden bad pain in 
his throat. At the shop he heard himself 
ask of big Aaron, the colored blacksmith, 
‘‘Is Mr. Simmons’ mule ready?” 

“Here he is,” replied big Aaron. “Ain’t 
yo’ got eyes to recognize yo’ own mule, 
boy?” 

Shakily Lincoln put his foot into the 


A RIDE FOR THE DOCTOR 


25 


looped-up trace by way of a stirrup, and 
climbed on Scott’s back. Sleepily be rode 
along through the outskirts of the town. If 
only he could take one little nap, just five 
minutes, he felt sure he could ride the rest 
of the way to the farm. Just where the 
lane to the Simmons farm entered the road 
which led in to the town, stood a rickety, 
abandoned shed. As Lincoln swayed in his 
saddle, his eyes fell on the hay. 

^‘^Whoa, Scotty!” he called hoarsely. 

We ’ll just rest a little minute here — I 
reckon,” and half falling off of the mule’s 
back, he crept into the shed and threw him- 
self down on the hay. 

The sun was sinking behind the hills. 
Over the fields from the ‘‘big house” of the 
Randolphs’ came Caroline, swinging the 
empty blue laundry bag in which she had 
“toted” home the wash for her mother. 

“My landy!” she exclaimed, as she 
climbed the fence into the lane, “what’s dis 
yere mule doin’ here all by hisself? 01’ 
man mule, what yo’ doin’ here?” she in- 
quired as she stroked his nose. But old 


26 


THE MAGIC BOX 


Scott was quite content with his feed, and 
as he reached for another mouthful, she 
glanced down and saw Lincoln huddled up 
on the hay. 

< ‘ Why — ^why — LinV^ cried Caroline. 

^‘What are you doin’ 

Lincoln opened his eyes, sleepily. ‘‘I — I 
was takin’ the mule home — to Mr. Sim- 
mons.” 

‘‘But git up, Lin, it’s gittin’ night!” ex- 
claimed Caroline. She took hold of his 
shoulders and pulled him to a sitting posi- 
tion. ‘ ‘ What is the matter with you-all ? ’ ’ 

“My throat hurts,” answered Lincoln 
thickly. He tried in vain to stand. “You 
take the mule home. Car ’line, I can’t.” 

“Yo’ sick!” exclaimed Caroline in a 
frightened whisper. “You got to go home, 
Lincoln. Here, I’ll help you,” and she 
pulled him to his feet. 

Dizzily, Lincoln leaned against the post of 
the shed. “I — I guess I can’t go. Sis,” he 
whispered. 

“I’ll take yo’ home on the mule,” Caro- 
line decided finally. 







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A RIDE FOR THE DOCTOR 


27 


^‘No — no, take the mule — ^to Mr. Sim- 
mons,” objected Lincoln. ‘‘I — gits my 
pay to-night.” 

^‘But how I gits yo^ home?” questioned 
Caroline, anxiously. She looked out of the 
shed. There were only the homes of strange 
white people around them. She did not 
know any of them. Mammy, mammy 1” 
she half sobbed under her breath. But her 
mother, she knew, was somewhere at the 
other end of the town. She was to cook 
supper for a white family and would not be 
home until nine o’clock that night. Caro- 
line looked back at her brother. He had 
sunk down again with his head against the 
side of the shed. He must be very sick. If 
only there was some doctor near ! But Caro- 
line had heard of none at all since they had 
lived in the town. If she could but get old 
Dr. Moulton, who had always given them 
magic medicine to stop their chills and 
fever. Why not — ^why not go to Dr. Moul- 
ton? Perhaps he could give some medicine 
which would cure him right away. But 
could she leave Lincoln alone in the shed? 


28 


THE MAGIC BOX 


Caroline considered. No, she must take him 
with her. 

‘‘Come, Lin,’’ she ordered, “you git up on 
the mule. We’s gwine to Dr. Moulton’s.” 

Lincoln half opened his eyes. “We got to 
take the mule back — ^to Mr. Simmons.” 

“Yep, I knows,” answered Caroline sooth- 
ingly. “But first, we-all goes to the doc- 
tor’s. Git up, boy,” and leading Scott to 
the side of the fence, and half dragging, half 
pushing Lincoln, she managed to get him on 
the mule’s back, and then to scramble up 
herself behind him. 

Anxiously Caroline dug her heels into the 
old mule’s sides. With one arm about her 
brother’s waist she steadied him, while with 
the other hand she held the looped-up reins. 
If the mule trotted, she was afraid Lincoln 
might fall off. 

Soon they were passing down the familiar 
road which led to her old home. She looked 
at the sky fearfully. There was only a glow 
left over the hills and the dark clouds hung 
low. Ere long it would be entirely dark. 
“Git up, Scotty,” she urged. “Git up!” 


A RIDE FOR THE DOCTOR 


29 


Down in the hollow was the old cemetery. 
Back home Uncle Scipio said there were 
^‘ha’nts^’ in the cemetery, which was Uncle 
Scipio ’s name for ghosts.’’ But the min- 
ister in their old church had told them 
there were no ‘^ha’nts.” Still Caroline 
looked anxiously down the dusky road. ^‘Is 
you afraid, Lin, of ha’nts?” she whispered. 
But Lincoln, his head resting heavily 
against her shoulder, appeared to be asleep. 
Should she turn back ? But she must take 
her brother to the doctor. The minister 
said there were no ghosts. Nearer and 
nearer they came to the cemetery lot. Caro- 
line could see the white tombstones gleam- 
ing through the dusk. 

Suddenly old Scott reared and plunged 
ahead, almost throwing them off his back. 
Grasping desperately at the reins, Caroline 
caught sight of a billowy white object rising 
from the side of the road. 

^ ‘ Scotty I ’ ’ she screamed and dug her heels 
into his sides. But old Scott needed no urg- 
ing. He galloped heavily ahead, and never 
slackened his pace till they came to the ford. 


THE MAGIC BOX 


3» 


Her heart beating hard, Caroline glanced 
fearfully back. Was the ha ’nt gaining upon 
them? There was the same white object, 
far in the rear, flapping in the wind against 
the old board fence. ‘‘Nothin’ but a big 
white poster!” exclaimed Caroline. 

“ W“What ?” asked the frightened Lincoln. 

Caroline laughed. “The Pa ’son was 
right, Lin, there ain’t no ha’nts.” 

Now they had come to the woods. Caro- 
line heard the sound of galloping hoofs be- 
hind them, and, before she could tell what 
had happened, a stern voice exclaimed 
“Whoa!” The old mule halted so suddenly 
that he threw up his head. 

“It seems to me,” continued the voice, 
“that I recognize my mule. What are you 
doing with it out on this road?” 

“M-mister Simmons?” stammered Caro- 
line. 

“Yes,” answered the voice, “What have 
you to say for yourself?” 

“Oh, Mr. Simmons, suh, Lincoln here, 
was takin’ yo’ mule home an’ he got so sick 
he couldn’t go, so I’m takin’ him to Dr. 


A RIDE FOR THE DOCTOR 


31 


Moulton’s an’ then I was goin’ to bring the 
mule home.” 

^‘So that’s the story!” Mr. Simmons 
rode close and peered into Lincoln’s face 
as he lay with his eyes closed again, against 
Caroline’s shoulder. ‘‘.Well, it looks as if it 
were true. Where does this doctor live?” 

“Jes’ on a little piece,” answered Caro- 
line. 

“Then let me help you,” and Mr. Sim- 
mons took the reins from her hands. “Now 
all you have to do is to hold your brother.” 

“What’s the trouble, Doctor?” asked Mr. 
Simmons, as the old man straightened up 
from his examination of Lincoln. 

“Diphtheria,” answered Dr. Moulton 
shortly. Then he turned to the girl. 
“Where do you live now, Caroline?” 

“Higgins Alley, suh,” she answered. 

“Humph!” answered the doctor. “I 
know that alley. Packed full o’ niggers 
from end to end, closer than you pack sar- 
dines in a box. Suppose there’s one spigot 
of water for the whole street?” 


32 


THE MAGIC BOX 


‘‘One fo’ every few houses, suh,’’ said 
Caroline. 

“Humph ejaculated the doctor again, 
“And I suppose Lincoln’s been goin’ to that 
fool school where they pack ’em three in a 
seat?” 

“Yes, suh,” answered Caroline. 

“And he’s been delivering your milk, 
Simmons, and I suppose his mother washes 
for the town.” 

“Yes, suh,” answered Caroline again. 

“Well, Simmons, you can see how a nice 
little epidemic can start in that alley and 
just naturally spread through all the white 
homes in Belton.” 

Mr. Simmons nodded slowly. 

“I’ve been telling your fine town doctors 
for the past ten years that Higgins Alley 
was a disgrace to ’em. I ought to send this 
boy right back there and let them take the 
consequences, but I won’t. There’s no 
Negro hospital in this town, and no district 
nurse to send to ’em ! Well, let me see. It 
just happens that my coachman, John, has 
moved out, and there are some pretty good 


A RIDE FOR THE DOCTOR 


33 


rooms up in the barn — good and comfort- 
able — and Marthy in the kitchen is pretty 
good-natured about cookin’ food. I guess 
that’s where I’ll put the boy. You’ll have 
to stay with him, Caroline, since you have 
been pretty thoroughly exposed. How 
would you like to act as trained nurse?” 

‘‘An’ wear a white cap and apron like 
I’ve seen, suh?” Caroline’s eyes shone. 

“Shouldn’t wonder,” smiled the doctor. 

“Oh, suh, I’d love to be a nurse mo’ than 
anythin’ in the world!” 

“Well, I guess you will have a chance un- 
til I can get your mother and brother out 
here, and judging from the way you brought 
Lincoln to me, I imagine you will make a 
good one.” 

“I’ll stop in the alley and tell their 
mother,” offered Mr. Simmons, adding, 
“Oh, yes, Caroline, this belongs to your 
brother,” as he dropped a five dollar bill 
into her lap. 

The soft spring air was blowing in 
through the window of his room in the barn 


34 


THE MAGIC BOX 


loft, when Lincoln first sat up after his long 
illness. 

‘‘Son,’’ smiled his mother, “I guess I 
don’ fo’got to gib you this befo’. Hit’s 
from yo’ month’s wages, what I promised 
yo’,” and she held out a round silver dollar. 

Lincoln reached out his thin brown hand 
eagerly. “Anodder shiner fo’ my educa- 
tion! Oh, Mammy, I sure is gwine to col- 
lege. Where’s the blue box? Let me hear 
it jingle with the odder!” 




Ill 


UP NORTH 

“rriHAT will do, Lincoln. You may sit 
A down, ’ ’ said the teacher. 

Lincoln was conscious as he finished read- 
ing, that a subdued titter ran around the 
room. That was the way these strange 
Northern boys and girls had laughed every 
time he opened his mouth. Now they 
laughed softly and secretly, since the teacher 
had sternly checked them. He knew they 
were making fun of him because of his 
Southern accent, and even the eight or ten 
other Negro boys and girls in the room 
joined them. He bit his lips to keep the 
tears back. What was the good of his beau- 
tiful, beautiful shining desk all by himself, 
of the lovely warmth which came from no 
hot iron stove, but yet seemed to fill the 
whole room ; of the beautiful pictures on the 
wall; of the real blackboard, if there was 
no friendly face except that of the teacher ? 

He looked shyly up at the teacher. She 
was a white woman, the first white teacher 

37 


38 


THE MAGIC BOX 


he had ever had; and this was a school for 
white boys as well as black. There were no 
schools hke that in the South. 

Many of the boys, too, were different from 
any white boys Lincoln had ever seen be- 
fore. Donald Bliss, a colored boy, had whis- 
pered to him at recess that the fathers of 
Dominico and Tony were Italians, that 
Stephane’s father was a Greek, and that big 
John was the son of a Bohemian. 

The teacher was speaking again. ‘^Will 
Lincoln Hall please remain for a few min- 
utes after school?’’ 

In the quiet room Lincoln looked up tim- 
idly into the face of his teacher. 

‘‘Lincoln,” began the teacher, “I think 
this grade is a little too hard for you yet.” 

“But I was in the fifth grade at home, 
ma’m,” answered Lincoln, the tears begin- 
ning to come into his big black eyes. Was 
he to be banished from this beautiful room 
after aU? 

“Still, your school never lasted so long as 
our school does, Lincoln, and you had other 
handicaps, too. Well,” she concluded 


UP NORTH 


39 


slowly, ‘‘I’ll try you for a few days. A boy 
with your name, you know, ought to be able 
to accomplish anything. You remember 
Lincoln had to work very hard for his edu- 
cation when he was a boy. ’ ’ 

“But — ^but he was a white boy,” answered 
Lincoln, shyly. 

“Black boys have done as much,” she re- 
plied. 

Had they, indeed ! Lincoln walked 
proudly to the door. He would just show 
teacher and all of them that he could stick 
in that class! 

Out on the playground the boys of the 
fifth grade were building a huge snow fort, 
which they had topped with a flag. Black 
boys and white were working together. 
Would they let him play with them? Big 
J ohn was just hoisting up a huge block of 
snow to the top of the fort. “Here, Coon,” 
he called over his shoulder to Lincoln, “you 
can make the ammunition!” 

In spite of the unpleasant name, Lincoln 
smiled as he walked over to the fort and be- 
gan making snowballs with his bare hands. 


40 


THE MAGIC BOX 


going to be captain of the fort,’^ ex- 
claimed Dominico dancing up and down. 

‘‘No, me,’’ answered big John roughly. 
“I guess I built it!” 

“But I made de plans and helped,” an- 
swered Dominico hotly. 

“Well, you ain’t goin’ to be captain,” 
replied J ohn. 

“All right, then see what will happen to 
yer old fort,” and reaching behind Lincoln, 
Dominico gave a push which sent John’s 
newly balanced tower and Lincoln together 
tumbling to the ground. 

John turned upon him in a rage. “You 
knock down my fort!”- he exclaimed, doub- 
ling up his fists. 

“Naw, he did it,” laughed Dominico, 
pointing to Lincoln rising from the snow. 

“Let’s wash his face!” exclaimed Tony. 

“I’ll show him!” yelled John. 

But Lincoln was frightened. He had 
never been in a snow fight before, and he 
flung out wildly with his arms striking as 
hard as he could, for he was sure he was 
going to be smothered. 


UP NORTH 


41 


Good-natured Donald Bliss, standing be- 
hind him, at this moment heaved a soft block 
of snow from the fort upon the necks of the 
boys who were doing the washing. 

‘‘Aw, quit!” exclaimed John, fishing 
down his back. 

“Let’s run the coons off!” called a white 
boy. 

The cry was taken up. “Let’s have a 
snow fight.” 

In a second the colored boys found them- 
selves alone, while the white boys were pelt- 
ing them with snowballs. 

And then the battle began in earnest. The 
Negro boys were far outnumbered. They 
fought pluckily, but inch by inch they were 
driven out of the playground and along the 
street. A well-aimed ball from Donald Bliss 
knocked John’s cap off. Angrily the big boy 
picked up a hunk of ice and threw it with 
all his might at Donald. He ducked, but it 
struck Lincoln full on the cheek bone and, 
stumbling sideways, he fell, the blood trick- 
ling from a wide gash in his cheek. 

“Aw, cut it out!” exclaimed Dominico, 


42 


THE MAGIC BOX 


running toward Lincoln. ‘‘He didn’t knock 
yer fort down anyway. I did, ’ ’ and the Ital- 
ian boy faced the other white boys defiantly. 

“I should think,” said a clear voice, “that 
since both sides fight so pluckily, you could 
together win any sort of battle.” 

“Miss Oliver!” gasped Donald Bliss. 

“And now,” continued Miss Oliver, “I 
think the first thing is to get this cut 
dressed.” 

The boys hung their heads in silence. 

“Will you come with me?” smiled the 
lady as she bent over Lincoln. 

The boy looked up in her face with round 
eyes. 

“Are — are you a police lady, missis?” he 
questioned. 

The woman shook her head and smiled at 
him. “I am just a friend of boys,” she an- 
swered, as she helped him to his feet. 

In a few minutes Lincoln found himself 
in a big, warm building. He looked about 
him with wide eyes. In a long, sunny room 
numbers of little Negro boys and girls were 
playing a merry kindergarten game. In 



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UP NORTH 


43 


another room tables were being laid with 
food for them. In a third room some big 
colored boys were laughing over a game of 
dominoes. Prom somewhere np-stairs came 
the sound of music on a piano. ‘‘Please, 
ma’m,’’ asked Lincoln, “where is this?’- 

“It is just a big, friendly church home 
kept by the Mission Board for all the colored 
people of this neighborhood,” answered the 
lady. 

“I think it’s heaven!” answered Lincoln 
with a sigh of comfort. 

In a neat little office, while the lady 
dressed his cut, Lincoln poured out the whole 
story ; how his father had been sick with a’ 
bad cough this winter and had to stay home 
from work many days; how they lived on 
the top floor of a rickety old building so 
close to the elevated railroad that the cars 
seemed to thunder through their rooms 
night and day; how sister Caroline wanted 
to go back home down South where the 
morning glories grew in the summer over 
their little cottage and the hollyhocks and 
sunflowers stood in the garden; and little 


44 


THE MAGIC BOX 


lame Georgia was afraid of the dashing au- 
tomobiles and cars, and cried all the time 
with the cold ; how Mammy knew no fami- 
lies to wash for in this strange city; and, 
last of all, about the old blue tin box and the 
two silver dollars in it. 

‘‘But ef I has to spend the money fo^ 
grub, then I can’t go to college ever,” he 
concluded sadly. 

“Oh, I guess you won’t have to do that,” 
comforted the lady. “I think we can help 
you out. Just come over to this next office 
with me. Mrs. Trowbridge,” she asked of 
the lady at the desk, “have you any one who 
wants washing done ? ’ ’ 

Mrs. Trowbridge glanced down her page. 

“Certainly,” she replied, “here are sev- 
eral families on my list.” 

“Anything for a boy?” continued Miss 
Oliver. 

Mrs. Trowbridge considered. And then 
she nodded. “Yes,” she answered. “Old 
Mrs. Hedges wants a boy to run errands 
every Saturday afternoon. She will pay 
fifty cents.” 


UP NORTH 


45 


^‘How will that do, Lincoln?’^ questioned 
Miss Oliver. 

Lincoln’s eyes sparkled. ‘‘Maybe some- 
time,” he replied, “I put another dollar in 
that box!” 

“Shouldn’t wonder,” smiled Miss Oliver. 
“And now, Lincoln, tell your mother I will 
call on her to-morrow morning about the 
washing, and I think I know the right doc- 
tor for your father to see.” 

“Please, ma’m,” said Lincoln, twisting his 
hat in his hands, “you’ve been so powerful 
good, could Georgie come here sometimes 
and listen to the music ? He surely kin play 
on the ol’ fiddle.” 

“Certainly he may come, and sister loo. 
Perhaps she would like to join some of our 
classes for young girls.” 

Still Lincoln lingered. ‘ ‘ Miss Oliver, ’ ’ he 
stammered, “did — did you say you belongs 
to a Mission Board?” 

Miss Oliver nodded, smiling. 

“There was a Mission Board friend down 
South, too. I — got two Men’s now,” said 
Lincoln shyly. 


46 


THE MAGIC BOX 


hope you will have many more,’^ an- 
swered Miss Oliver, as she opened the door 
for him. 

But Lincoln stood still in astonishment. 
There in a silent line, were the boys of his 
school, colored and white together* What 
had happened to them? One of Donald 
Bliss’ eyes was swollen shut. Tony had lost 
his hat. Dominico’s lip was bleeding, but 
big Bohemian John carried in triumph a 
small, torn American flag. What did it all 
mean? 

^‘Why, boys!” exclaimed Miss Oliver, 
looking at them over Lincoln’s head, ‘‘have 
you been flghting ever since I left you?” 

“Yeh-er,” replied big John, a grin 
spreading over his scratched face. “Dose 
bad boy from de Green Street school dey 
come to take de flag from our fort. We 
fight — ^we fight togedder, an’ we keep de 
flag!” 

“Yeh-er, we kept it!” broke in Donald. 

“And now we make a parade wit de flag,” 
declared J ohn. “An’ — an’ we stop here for 
Lin.” 


UP NORTH 


47 


‘‘Come on, Lin!” called Dominico, grab- 
bing Lincoln by the arm. “We mak-a da 
friends, me an’ you!” and with a yell the 
boys were off, the flag waving proudly in the 
lead. 


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THE LOST POCKETBOOK 


ly 

THE LOST POCKETBOOK 


H ICKETY - HOME, hickety - home I 
Hickety-homel’’ sang the wheels. 
South! South!” panted the engine every 
time it left a station. Yes, South again was 
where Lincoln was going. The good doctor 
whom the people at the friendly church had 
sent to see his father, had told them that be- 
cause of the cold of the big Northern lake 
city, the dampness of the stock-yard work, 
and the ramshackle, crowded rooms in which 
they had lived, his lungs had become affected, 
and that only by living in the open air of the 
sunny South could he hope to become well 
once more. But where should they go? 
They knew only their old home. 

Sam Williams’ father wrote that they 
might rent their old house again from old 
Mr. Crosby, with a bit of garden attached. 
The rent would be small, he said, for the 
farm which went with the house was already 
being worked, and a new ‘institution” 
would give Mr. Hall and Lincoln, also, work 
61 


52 


THE MAGIC BOX 


by the day. JVTiat was the mysterious insti- 
tution? Sam^s father did not say. But 
where could they get the money for the long 
trip South? Hopelessly the little family 
talked the matter over and over, and then 
the big, friendly Church Mission again came 
to the rescue and lent them the money for 
the journey. 

^‘If only I could take the school, an’ Dom- 
inico an’ Miss Oliver with me,” sighed Lin- 
coln, ‘‘I wouldn’t mind goin’ back.” 

‘‘If only I could take the Girls’ Club,” 
added Caroline. 

“I’se glad we-all is gwine back,” declared 
little Georgie, “if only, — ^if only I could 
tote the pianer f ’om the big church — ” 

Lincoln pulled the old, blue tin box out of 
his pocket and jingled the three silver dol- 
lars in it. “Just one I made up No’th,” he 
mused. 

“iWe’re here!” screamed Georgie, his 
head out of the window. 

“There’s Sam Williams !” exclaimed Lin- 
coln, “and he’s got shoes on!” 

Sam Williams was not the only one at the 


THE LOST POCKETBOOK 


53 


station. There were all their former neigh- 
bors — ^the Williams family, the Moores, the 
Hobarts, and all the rest — all with shining 
faces and all in their best clothes. Lincoln 
had never seen so many bright new clothes 
before. Had all their old neighbors become 
wealthy in the nearly two years since the 
Hall family had moved away? 

Mr. Williams stepped forward and shook 
hands with Lincoln’s father. ^Hn the name 
of the Farmers’ League of this county I wel- 
comes back our old friend and neighbor. 
Brother Hall!” 

Then Mrs. Hobart stepped forward and, 
presenting a large bouquet of flowers to Lin- 
coln’s mother, said: ^Hn the name of the 
Ladies’ Helpin’ Han’ Society of our Church 
I welcomes you back home. Sister Hall.” 

The Helping Hand Society and the Farm- 
ers’ League! Where had they come from? 
They had never heard of them two years 
before. In a daze of wonderment Lincoln, 
his father and mother, Caroline and Georgie 
were hurried by their old friends into a big 
farm wagon decorated with branches and 


54 


THE MAGIC BOX 


drawn by two big mules, and were taken back 
to their old home. They looked at the house 
in astonishment. Boards had been nailed 
on where they were off. The little sagging 
porch had been propped up; fresh putty 
showed where new panes of glass had been 
put in ; while fluttering out from under the 
open sashes were bits of snowy white muslin 
curtains. 

Speechless, they entered the low door. 
In the two front rooms were two old bed- 
steads and a little cot, all freshly painted. 
There were comfortable chairs and rockers 
made out of barrel staves, and brightly 
cushioned with chintz. In the kitchen, pieces 
of old boards had been nicely fashioned into 
a substantial table, painted to match the rest 
of the furniture, while on it was laid forth 
in tempting array a boiled ham, fresh corn 
bread and baked sweet potatoes. 

But before the astonished travelers could 
say a word, Mrs. Hobart again stepped for- 
ward, and, lifting a bushel basket from the 
corner, presented it to Lincoln’s mother. A 
loud clucking came from the inside. ^‘This 


THE LOST POCKETBOOK 


6& 


IB from the ladies, Sister she saidy 

‘‘fo’ a beginnin’r^ 

The children darted forward to see what 
was inside. There, on a nest of hay, sat an 
old mother hen, quite indignant at the crowd 
of laughing faces, while fluffy little balls of 
yellow chicks peeped out from under her 
wings and scrambled upon her back for a 
better view. 

With tears of joy running down her 
cheeks, Mrs. Hall thanked her old neighbors 
for their special gift to her. 

‘‘But the Farmers’ League?” questioned 
Mr. Hall. “What is that?” 

Mr. Williams rose to his feet. “Brother 
Hall,” he said, “you remember that I wrote 
you ’bout the new institution in our midst? 
It am an institution of learnin’ set here to 
be a shinin’, inspirin’ light amongst us, by 
the Mission Board what sent a representa- 
tive here two years ago to look the groun’ 
over. In other words, the Mission Board 
has bought the old Templeton place an’ they 
aims to turn it into a school as fas’ as pos- 
sible. The school will open in September, 


56 


THE MAGIC BOX 


but the young colored brother, what came 
here with the Mission Board man, has been 
workin’ over the place, a-layin’ out the 
farm, an’ a trabblin’ over the county for a 
year an’ a half, a workin’ up interest in the 
school. He has organized the farmers of the 
county into a league fo’ the improvement of 
our farms, our homes and our own selves. 
He has hitched us onto the Federal Loan 
Association, so that the gover’ment of *the 
United States will help us git our own farms; 
by lendin’ us money to buy with. So all of 
your ol’ neighbors. Brother Hall, now is 
settin’ out to own their own land. That 
young colored man, — ^Mr. Leland is his name, 
— ^he graduated f’om Hampton, an’ then 
from a farm college, up No’th, an’ he 
teach us to build ’tractive furniture out of 
ol’ barrels. He got the ladies of the church 
togedder fo’ to improve the community. 
They has earned fo’ty dollars fo’ to .fix up 
the old schoolhouse. We has leveled up the 
flo’. Brother Hall, an’ the ladies hab bought 
some mo’ books fo’ boys and girls. With 
the help of Mr. Leland, we done had a build- 


THE LOST POCKETBOOK 


57 


in’ bee, an’ fix yo’ bouse up ’cause we know 
you-all can’t fetch no furniture f’om the 
No’th; the ladies put up the chintz and cur- 
tains and prepare de feast. He’p yo’sef and 
welcome, brother,” and, mopping his brow 
after his long speech, Mr. Williams sat down 
so hard in one of the new chairs that it 
creaked. 

^‘Brother Williams, Brother Williams,” 
said Lincoln anxiously, after his father and 
mother had expressed their thanks, ‘4s they 
— ^are they going to have single desks in that 
school, an’ pictures on the walls and real 
blackboards?” 

But Georgie could not wait for an answer. 
“Is they aimin’ to have a planner?” he 
asked almost in a whisper. 

“An’ girls’ clubs?” asked Caroline. 

Mr. Williams fanned himseK. “I sho’ly 
believe they will have all them embellish- 
ments,” he said with authority. 

“Mr. Williams, can anybody go to the 
school?” asked Lincoln, his heart thump- 
ing. 

“The school will continue f’om de fo’th 


58 


THE MAGIC BOX 


grade up. The boardin’ pupils kin earn their 
keep, but everybody that goes has to pay a 
small tuition. To’ kin get mo’ details to- 
morrow when yo’ goes with yo’ pa to see 
about the work.” 

Trudging home from the wonderful new 
school farm the next day, Lincoln asked his 
father anxiouslyj ‘‘Do you ’low I can go. 
Pappy?” 

Mr. HaU slowly scratched his head. “I 
think we kin make it, son. There’ll be wash- 
in’ fo’ the teachers at the school fo’ yo’ 
mother; you can help me afternoons and 
Saturdays on the farm, — ^y-yes, I reckon we 
kin make it, son.” 

“Hurray! Hurray!” cried Lincoln, and 
he turned a somersault of pure joy in the 
middle of the dusty road. “An’ maybe Sis 
and Georgie can go next year, too, when 
they get into the fifth grade. But, hello, 
who am that — ^who is that person just hitch- 
in’ by the door?” 

“It’s sho’ enough Mr. Crosby,” replied 
his father hurrying forward. “I reckon 
he’s come to see about the rent, son.” 





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THE LOST POCKETBOOK 


69 


‘‘Old Skinflint’^ Crosby, as everybody 
called him, stood with legs wide apart, gaz- 
ing at the little house. “Yes, Peter,” he 
said as Mr. Hall spoke to him, “I Ve come to 
see about the rent. I think, I think, Peter, 
that the place has improved much since I 
saw it last. I think, Peter, that I will have 
to charge you fifty dollars mo’ a year than 
the sum I first mentioned to Sam.” 

“But, but. Mister Crosby, I understood 
when I come back f ’om the No’th that you 
lemme hab it fo’ what yo’ tol’ Sam. I — I 
sho’ nuff understood that it was settled,” 
stammered Lincoln’s father, adding, “It’s 
my frien’s that’s fixed it up.” 

“But, Peter, a landlord always has the 
right to raise his rent when there is no writ- 
ten contract. No, Peter, yo’ can pay me 
fifty dollars mo’ — I think the place is worth 
it now — or yo’ can vacate,” and nodding 
briefly over his shoulder, he was gone. 

Lincoln’s father sat down sadly upon the 
little porch. “I — I reckon, son,” he said, 
slowly, “that yo’ will have to wait till next 
year fo’ yo’ school.” 


60 


THE MAGIC BOX 


‘^Oh, Pappy, isn’t there any way?” 
begged Lincoln. ‘‘It ain’t fair when he 
done nothin’ ’bout fixin’ thin’s up.” 

His father shook his head. “There’s the 
money we owe the church up No’th, an’ 
there’s five mouths to fill — an’ I can’t work 
very stiddy yet. No, son, I guess there ain’t 
— no way.” 

‘ ‘ The old skinfiint ! ’ ’ Lincoln burst out. ‘ ‘ I 
— I just wish I could hurt — him,” and the 
big tears rolled down the boy’s face. 

All through the long August days Lincoln 
worked side by side with his father on the 
land of the wonderful new school, and Mr. 
Leland explained all about the farm, and 
how it would be made an experiment station 
to try out crops and methods of farming, to 
find out how the land round about could be 
made to yield the most for the farmers. He 
showed him the new pigs, cows, and chickens 
on the place — better breeds than those which 
the farmers had. 

And then September came; and Lincoln 
saw the new school furniture come in. Load 
after load of shining desks, pictures, black- 


THE LOST POCKETBOOK 


61 


boards and maps, arrived. He watched them 
all with longing eyes. Boarding pupils — 
strange hoys and girls from other parts of 
the country and of the state — came, for it 
was only two days more before school would 
open. ‘‘Next year, anyway,’^ he sighed. 

The sun had set, and Lincoln was trudg- 
ing home in the dusk. His father had left 
long before. He was walking moodily in 
the ditch and kicking the dry elm leaves 
before him. 

“Humph!’’ he said, “I wish these leaves 
wuz chestnuts. ’ ’ A stone rolled out of place. 
“What’s that, an ol’ shoe?” Lincoln stooped 
and picked something up. It was certainly 
an old piece of leather — queer and shriveled 
and covered with green mildew. What was 
it? It was shaped like an envelope. Gin- 
gerly, Lincoln lifted up the soggy, green flap. 
Inside was a piece of wet, discolored paper 
which fell to fragments in his hands. He 
stepped into the middle of the road and held 
it up in the faint light. “Must had writin’* 
on it once,” he said out loud. But what was 
that? Folded in with the damp old paper 


62 


THE MAGIC BOX 


was something dark. He drew it out. It 
clung to his fingers. It was an old twenty 
dollar bill ! 

Lincoln stood still in astonishment. 
‘‘Twenty dollars!^’ he gasped. He peered 
into the old case again. No, there w§,s noth- 
ing more there. “Twenty dollars! Wait 
till I shows it to Mammy!’’ and he started 
off at breakneck speed for home. 

Suddenly he stopped short. “That will 
pay fo’ school an’ five dollars over, an’ it’s 
mine! But — but somebody done lose it,” 
he added, forgetting his grammar. He 
walked soberly into the house. 

For a long time the family discussed the 
wonderful find. They rubbed the mold off 
of the old leather and searched and searched, 
but no name could be found. 

“It’s been lost a right smart time,” con- 
cluded Lincoln’s father. 

“Could — could I have it for my school if 
it don’t belong to anybody?” asked Lincoln 
breathlessly. 

His mother and father nodded. “Sho’ly, 
cTnF^ if you don’t find who it belongs to.” 


THE LOST POCKETBOOK 


63 


For the next two days all of the neighbors 
in turn had a call from a panting boy, who 
held up an old shrunken leather case and 
asked if they had ever seen it before. Had 
they heard of anybody’s losing any money? 
In astonishment everybody in turn shook his 
head to the questions, and each time Lin- 
coln’s eyes lighted with hope. Elijah Ho- 
bart’s father declared that there was no 
money around there to lose. 

With trembling voice Lincoln told Mr* 
Leland the story on the morning school 
opened, and showed him the old case. He 
consulted mth the white principal who was 
in charge of the school. They took down 
an old file of county newspapers, Mr. Leland 
had made, but there were no advertisements 
of lost money. ‘‘Well, Lincoln,” smiled the 
new teacher, “I guess you are safe. Here 
is your school receipt, and here is five dollars 
change. Good luck to you,” and he led the 
boy to the beautiful, shining, new sixth 
grade room. 

Lincoln thought the new school the most 
wonderful he had ever been in, and when, 


64 


THE MAGIC BOX 


at recess, Mr. Copeland, the new principal, 
told the boys about forming a school football 
eleven, he shrieked and clapped with the 
others like a wild Indian instead of a colored 
boy down South. 

School was at last over, and Lincoln was 
trudging gaily home, his new books slung 
in a strap over his shoulder. As he leaned 
over to tie his new shoe, a pencil fell out of 
his pocket. 

^‘Huh,’’ he exclaimed, straightening up. 
reckon I use that oV case to put my pen- 
cils in.’’ He took the old bill case out of his 
pocket and tried to fit the new pencils in it. 
One of them stuck and then burst through 
the leather, now dry and spongy. ‘‘Aw, too 
bad,” he muttered and turned the case inside 
out to see how it could be mended. Suddenly 
some writing on the leather itself caught his 
eye. The color showed, now that the leather 
had dried out light. He could distinctly 
read, in the sunset, a name printed in India 
ink underneath the flap. It was “Cyrus 
Crosby.” 

Lincoln stood perfectly still. Old Skin- 


THE LOST POCKETBOOK 


65 


flint! He had never thought of him, over 
in the next township. If he had lost any 
money, would he not have searched high and 
low for it ? Everybody would have known. 
And then Lincoln remembered. Just before 
they had moved away ‘^Old Skinflint” had 
been robbed. The thieves must have 
dropped the case here in the dark as they 
hurried away. 

Was he to lose his precious school after 
all? A big Imnp rose in his throat. And 
— and the football team? But why should 
he? Hadn’t he tried to find the owner of 
the money? ‘‘Old Skinflint” had forgotten 
it. He had plenty of money anyway. And 
he had no right to it. He owed that and 
thirty dollars more to Lincoln’s father for 
breaking his word about the rent. 

“An’ — an’ I’ve gone and been to school,” 
he sobbed in the fence corner into which he 
had crawled. But why tell? Nobody knew. 

Lincoln went home slowly, and very 
quietly he answered all the questions about 
the new school. 

“Well,” concluded Caroline in disgust. 


66 


THE MAGIC BOX 


‘‘I reckon it ain’t so fine after all, the way 
you tells about it!” 

The next morning Lincoln was back in his 
seat before his shining, new desk, but some- 
how it did not seem so fine after all. Why 
did the sad eyes in the picture of Lincoln, 
above the blackboard, always look at him? 
The day before, the teacher had told them a 
story about Lincoln — ^how he had walked 
many miles to make good a mistake in 
change he had given a customer. He was 
called ^‘Honest Abe,” she said. 

At recess Mr. Copeland called. ^^Come 
bn, Lincoln,” he said, ‘‘I thought you 
wanted to be on the football team?” But 
Lincoln only shook his head. 

Mr. Copeland was closing up his desk for 
the night in the school office, on his way 
to supper, when suddenly he heard a slight 
noise behind him. Turning, he saw a boy 
in the indistinct light. ^‘Oh, Lincoln,” he 
exclaimed, thought you had gone home 
long ago!” 

^^Mr. Copeland,” asked Lincoln in a 


THE LOST POCKETBOOK 


67 


hoarse voice, ^^can you give me the school 
money back?’’ 

^^Why, Lincoln,” said Mr. Copeland, 
^ ^ don ’t you want to go to school ? I thought 
you wanted to come so much.” 

‘‘Please, suh, I’d like the money back,” 
and then the boy sobbed out the whole story. 

It was nearly eight o’clock that night 
when a little dark figure plodded up the long 
drive to the Crosby house. Then the door 
opened and an old man stood before him 
with a lamp held high. 

“Oh, it’s you,” grunted Old Skinflint. 
“Didn’t you know enough to go to the back 
do’, boy?” 

“Yes, suh,” answered Lincoln faintly, and 
started to go down the steps. 

“Oh, well, since you’re here, come in. 
What is it you want?” 

“It’s this,” answered Lincoln briefly, 
holding out the old case. “I found it under 
the elms on the big road.” 

Old Skinflint ’s eyes slowly opened. “ It ’s 
the very bill folder the villains robbed me 


68 


THE MAGIC BOX 


of under those very trees. Let me see. 
There was a twenty dollar bill in it/^ he 
concluded sharply and opened the folder. 
^‘Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, — ^yes that’s right, 
but I distinctly remember I had a twenty 
dollar bill. "What did you do with it, boy ? ’ ’ 

‘‘I — I didn’t know it was yours — ^the 
writin’ — ^your name — never showed till yes- 
terday, when the leather was dry — an’ — an’ 
I went to the new school. They gave me the 
money back.” And Lincoln moved timidly 
toward the door. 

The old man’s eyes looked him over 
sharply. ^^So,” he said slowly, ‘‘seems as 
if there was an honest nigger after all! 
Well, good night.” And he snapped a rub- 
ber band smartly about the old bill case. 

Lincoln was glad the next morning that 
the farm work took his father and himself 
far from the school. He could not stand it to 
see the boys go in and out. He looked up 
at the sun. It must be about recess, he con- 
cluded. Who would sit in his new seat? 

“Lincoln!” The boy looked up. Mr. 
Copeland was striding over the field. ‘ ‘ Lin- 


THE LOST POCKETBOOK 


69 


coin, you are to come right in to school. 'A 
Mr. Crosby has sent a letter. He says hon- 
est Negro boys are worth educating, and so 
he writes you are to go to school this half 
year, and let me see, — ^yes, he includes in 
his check the second half year too.” 



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CAROLINE’S PLAY 







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CAROLINE’S PLAY 

T he Girls’ Service Club was meeting in 
the sunny sewing-class room of the big 
Belton Mission School. Caroline looked 
around the room enviously. Next year she 
would be studying here if all went well, for 
then she would be ready for the fifth grade. 
Several other girls from the district school 
were in the club too. 

The afternoon’s work was done, and the 
girls were piling up the little gauze squares 
they had been making for Red Cross work. 

‘^Miss Gold,” Caroline asked the teacher, 
^‘kin I study to be a trained nurse here in 
this school? I reckon I’ll be cornin’ next 
year.” 

‘H’m afraid not, Caroline,” answered 
Miss Gold. ^‘This school has no training- 
class for nurses. You know we would have 
to have a little hospital if we did, a head 
nurse to teach you, and a doctor to take care 
of the patients.” 

‘‘But that’s what we need!” exclaimed 

73 


74 


THE ISIAGIC BOX 


Caroline, her eyes sparkling. ‘‘01’ Dr. 
Moulton takes care o’ us all he kin, but we- 
all haven’t any hospital nor any nurse in 
this district. They had to put my brother 
an’ Sam Higgins in the barn when they were 
sick.” 

“Ain’t there any place we colored chil’en 
can learn to be nurses?” asked little Sally 
^illis. 

“Not nearer than Atlanta, Sally,” an- 
swered Miss Gold. 

Caroline leaned over the table earnestly. 
“Miss Gold,” she said, ^‘why couldn’t this 
school be fixed so’s it could teach nursing?” 

“You’ll have to ask the Secretary of the 
Board,” smiled Miss Gold, “when he comes 
to see us next week. He is going to make 
us quite a visit. But I am afraid he will 
think that we need many other things be- 
fore it is time to start a nurses’ training 
department.” 

Caroline walked home in a dream. Al- 
ready she could see herself in a white cap 
and apron, going in and out of all the little 
cabins in the neighborhood, taking care of 







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CAROLINE’S PLAY 


76 


the sick people and making them well. She 
saw herself in a little white hospital such 
as she had seen np North once. She would 
stick that glass thing into people’s mouths 
just as she had seen the white-capped nurse 
stick it into her father’s mouth. 

And then one noon, Lincoln came breath- 
lessly home from school to tell them all that 
the great Secretary of the Mission Board 
that had given them the school, had come 
at last. He was going to visit all the classes 
in the school and go all over the farm. Lin- 
coln had heard it riunored that the Farmers’ 
League and the Ladies’ Helping Hand So- 
ciety would give him a supper. ‘‘An’ — an’ 
he’s goin’ all over the county visitin’ 
schools,” the boy panted out at the end. 

“Is he — ^is he cornin’ to Number 4?” asked 
Caroline. 

“Course,” answered Lincoln, his mouth 
full of sweet potato. Caroline walked so- 
berly toward school. Could the whole 
school stand and ask the great Secretary if 
they might have a hospital ? Could she get 
somebody’s father to drive him around to 


76 


THE MAGIC BOX 


see the sick people? No. Would she dare 
to tell him that she and Sally and Corrine 
wanted to learn to be nurses ? Never would 
she dare! Caroline stood still. And then 
suddenly she began to run. She had an 
idea! 

District School No. 4 buzzed with excite- 
ment for the next week. Miss Gregory, the 
new teacher, had no trouble with attendance. 
Everybody was there early, and everybody 
stayed long after school at night. The little 
cot disappeared from Caroline’s room at 
home, and she willingly slept on the floor. 
Sheets disappeared from beds; articles of 
clothing were begged and borrowed. 

‘‘Will we know when he’s cornin’?” asked 
Sally Willis, anxiously. 

“How kin we fln’ out?” worried Tad 
Greene. 

“We’ve got to be ready all the time,” 
declared Caroline. 

But in the end they did know, for one 
noon-time Elijah Moore came racing in to 
tell them that his father had just left for a 
special meeting of the Farmers’ League to 


CAROLINE’S PLAY 


77 


confer with the Secretary at the church that 
afternoon, and that Sam Williams had said 
he had heard Mr. Leland say, at the big 
school, that he and the Secretary would visit 
the district school directly afterwards. 

Instantly all was bustle in the little room. 
Tad Greene was posted at the corner of the 
road to give them warning of the coming 
of their guests. 

As the last bench was being placed at the 
back of the room for the visitors, suddenly 
there was a loud whoop from Tad outside* 
With one mad scramble the last boys and 
girls took their places upon the floor or in 
the few remaining seats. Miss Gregory 
hurried to the door. 

There were not only Mr. Leland, Mr. 
Copeland and the Secretary, but the Farm- 
ers’ League and various representatives of 
the Ladies’ Helping Hand Society as well. 
The eyes of the boys and girls were round 
with awe as, at a signal from Miss Gregory, 
they shuffled to their feet and said in chorus, 
‘ ‘ Good afternoon ! We ’re glad to see y er ! ’ ’ 
’Clare ter goodness!” exclaimed Sally 


78 


THE MAGIC BOX 


[Willis’s mother, ‘‘ef dere ain’t one o’ my 
sheets!” Sure enough, strung up across 
the whole front of the room on a wire, was 
a curtain of white sheets. The visitors 
gazed at it in surprise. 

And then Miss Gregory made a speech. 
‘‘In honor of the visit of the Secretary of 
the Board of Missions, we venture to pre- 
sent a little play. We call it, ‘The Past and 
the Future.’ We hope you will all enjoy 
it,” and, bowing low, she stepped aside. 

At a loud whisper from behind the scenes. 
Tad Greene opened the curtain. 

Before the astonished eyes of the audi- 
ence stood Elijah Moore, dressed to look 
like — ^yes, somehow he did make one think 
of old Dr. Moulton, who had doctored all 
the Negroes in the neighborhood for years. 

“Takin’ off white folks,” exclaimed Eli- 
jah’s mother in a horrified whisper. “ Jes’ 
wait till I gits dat boy home !” 

But Elijah was very busy over a little 
dark cot, while a distressed mother and fam- 
ily stood around. 

“Why, it’s ‘Sam Higgins’, sick with the 


CAROLINE’S PLAY 


79 


typhoid!’’ exclaimed Sam Williams’ father. 

The doctor was asking question after 
question of the family. ‘‘You all sleeps in 
this room?” They nodded. “Ain’t no 
other place to put him?” 

“’Ceptin’ in the kitchen,” answered the 
tearful mother. ‘ ‘ Then we got to move him 
right away into the barn,” declared the doc- 
tor sternly, “since we-all has no hospital nor 
any place to send him.” 

The Negro mothers and fathers looked at 
one another in a shocked way. Everybody 
knew about Sam Higgins in the barn, but 
it had never seemed quite so bad before. 

But Tad was opening the curtain again. 
There was “old Sarah Loomis” propped up 
in a chair, while Elijah, with an old piece of 
rubber hose spliced to look like a stethoscope, 
was listening to her lungs. “De new- 
monie!” he declared. In a very realistic 
way “young Sarah” wrung her hands. 
“How kin I take care of her, doctor, with 
five chil’en an my ol’ man?” And, indeed, 
every one knew that young Sarah had worn 
herself out trying to take care of old Sarah, 


80 


THE MAGIC BOX 


and was now very sick herself. ‘‘Ef only, 
there was a hospital where she could 
be took care of well!^’ And the curtain 
closed over a doctor sadly shaking his head, 
while young Sarah covered her head with 
her apron and wept. Some of the real 
Sarah’s friends in the audience joined her. 

In the next scene, ‘kittle Bob Smith” ap- 
peared after his dreadful accident. Old 
Dr. Moulton was trying to bandage his head, 
but when he asked ‘‘Bob’s sister” to help 
him, she fled, wildly screaming that she could 
not bear the sight of blood. 

Then the audience saw “little Sophie 
Marks” gently rocking her baby sister’s 
cradle. It was time for Sophie to give the 
baby some medicine, but she could not re- 
member how much the doctor had told her to 
give. Sophie’s mother was dead, and there 
was only Sophie to look after the baby. She 
could not read the directions on the bottle 
because she had never had time to go to 
school. “If only there was a real nurse to 
he’p take kere o’ baby,” said little Sophie 
piteously. She gave two teaspoonsful when 


CAROLINE’S PLAY 


81 


the directions called for only a few drops. 
When the baby became very ill, she wildly 
snatched her up and ran for the doctor. It 
was Bob Hobart’s father who had picked 
her up in his wagon and driven her frantic- 
ally to the doctor just in time to save the 
baby’s life. 

Then came ‘‘little Ephraim Towne” in 
his clumsy wheel-chair. Everybody loved 
little Ephraim. A group of children were 
gathered about him holding out to him 
bunches of the first arbutus fiowers, while 
Dr. Moulton stood by Ephraim’s side, say- 
ing that if there were only a hospital or 
sanitarium to which little Ephraim might 
be sent for special care and food, he could 
in time run about and play with the rest 
of the children. 

Then Tad Greene opened the curtains on 
the last scene. There was Caroline’s cot 
made up all in snowy white like the hospital 
beds. In it, very properly posed, lay a 
patient. By his side, in long white apron, 
in snowy kerchief and cap, stood Caroline 
herself. She was just withdrawing from 


82 


THE MAGIC BOX 


the patient’s month the bulb of an old out- 
of-door thermometer, while Dr. Moulton 
stood by, remarking on the fact that the 
patient had not a bit of fever, a fact due to 
her remarkable skill as a nurse. 

Caroline, however, proceeded to tell him 
that there were many more patients in the 
little hospital than she alone could care for 
and many in the neighborhood who needed 
visits. As she spoke, she looked expectantly 
down the little schoolroom to the door, for 
at that moment Corrine, Sally, and Myrtle 
should have trooped in, walked straight up 
to the platform and told how very much 
they wished to learn to be nurses. They 
were to tell how gladly they would help in 
the hospital and that they wished to spend 
their lives in caring for the sick of the neigh- 
borhood. But, alas, all that Caroline could 
see was three pairs of frightened dark eyes 
peering over the window sill. She repeated 
her last sentence in a little louder tone. 
Some of the school children began to giggle. 
Then she beckoned wildly. Sally only shook 
her head to indicate that they were too 


CAROLINE’S PLAY 


83 


scared to come, while Corrine began to cry. 
The audience turned their heads to learn the 
trouble. That was too much for the three 
little woolly heads at the window. They dis- 
appeared, and Caroline saw them fleeing to 
the woods. 

Was her precious play to fail at the very 
end? People had laughed in the wrong 
places; she had got a glimpse of old Dr. 
Moulton in the back of the room. How had 
he come there ? Would he be angry at what 
they had done? Many things had gone 
wrong. Elijah was trying to signal Tad to 
close the curtain. The very point of the play 
was going to be lost. Bravely keeping back 
her tears, she snatched off the beautiful 
white cap, unpinned the snowy kerchief and 
apron, and laid them on a chair, and then 
running down into the audience she turned 
and came up again. Bowing low before her 
own uniform, she started in on Sally’s 
speech, but half way through she stumbled 
and then stopped. Oh, it was all a miserable 
failure. People were laughing. Turning^ 
toward the audience, she threw out her arms. 


84 


THE MAGIC BOX 


^^Oh, I wants to be a nurse and take care o’ 
the sick people, I wants to be it more than 
anythin’ else! An’ Corrine wants to, and 
Sally and Myrtle, an’ how kin we if the Mis- 
sion School don’t larn us?” And throwing 
herself across the little cot, she burst into 
tears, while Elijah turned away in disgust, 
and Tad mercifully drew the curtain. 

She had failed. But what was that ? Dr. 
Moulton’s gruff voice sounded through the 
thin sheeting. ‘‘This little girl has told the 
truth, gentlemen, and you have seen the 
truth! Only, I can tell you much more.” 
Caroline crawled to the edge of the curtain 
and peeped through while the story went on. 

Never before had the black people whom 
the old man had doctored for so many years 
known that he had cared so much. “And 
now, suh,” he said, addressing the Secre- 
tary, “if you can cooperate with us by estab- 
lishing this little hospital in connection with 
your school, I will pledge myself to give my 
services free, and I know other doctors who 
will do the same,” and mopping his face 
the good doctor sat down. 


CAROLINE’S PLAY 




Then the great Secretary rose, and said, 
though the idea was an entirely new one 
to him, evidently there was great need. He 
appreciated deeply Dr. Moulton ^s offer and 
would carry the message home to his Board. 
But they had been under great expense in 
starting the school and he feared there 
might be difficulty in raising the funds. 

Instantly the old doctor sprang to his 
feet. ‘ ‘ I will be glad to start a subscription, 
suh, with five hundred dollars, and I know 
there are other Southern white men who will 
be glad to help.’’ 

Sam Williams’ father cleared his throat: 
<<The Farmers’ League ain’t so very wealthy 
yit, but they sho’ly will be right glad to do 
their part.” 

Mrs. Willis rose to her feet. ‘‘An’ the 
ladies of the Helpin’ Han’ Society will be 
much gratified to do their very bes’. The 
colored people will help theirselves as fer as 
they kin. The Board kin count on us.” 

There was a round of applause, and then 
Mr. Copeland spoke. “Miss Gregory has 
just told me,” he said, “that the star of this 


86 


THE MAGIC BOX 


play is also the author. Let us call for Miss 
Caroline Hall.’’ And then everybody 
clapped anew, and harder than ever. 

Miss Gregory put her head through the 
curtain and beckoned excitedly to Caroline. 
The little girl came forward shyly, the tears 
still shining on her lashes. 

^‘Miss Caroline, in the name of the audi- 
ence, I thank you for showing us all this 
need,” said Mr. Copeland. 

The Secretary took a step forward. 
‘‘And let me add,” he said smiling, “that if 
Belton Academy does succeed in establish- 
ing a Nurses’ Training School, and I have 
faith to believe we shall, it will welcome 
with open arms Caroline Hall as its first 
candidate nurse!” 


THE MAGIC BOX 



VI 


THE MAGIC BOX 

N OW this,’’ said the little old Hebrew 
music man, ^4s the very best violin I 
have. He very old.” He shrugged his 
shoulders. not know how old.” Ten- 
derly he unwrapped the beautiful mellow 
case. 

With shining eyes Oeorgie laid the violin 
under his chin and drew the bow. Lincoln 
and Mr. Copeland, the principal of the Mis- 
sion School, watching, saw him close his 
eyes. And then the violin began to sing. 
It was not only one beautiful voice which 
Georgie brought out of the violin, but at 
times many voices singing together, and 
then at the end, one little thin voice alone 
soared up and up like a singing bird until 
the notes died away far up in the clouds. 
Never had they known that Georgie could 
play like that, even though Mr. Hunting, 
the music teacher at the Mission School, had 
told them Georgie was the most wonderful 
pupil he had ever had. Long ago Georgie 

89 


90 


THE MAGIC BOX 


had ceased to want a piano, and decided he 
loved his old fiddle best. 

The boy took a long breath and laid the 
violin down on the counter. ^‘That is the 
one I want,’’ he said. 

Mr. Copeland glanced at the tag. ‘‘But, 
Georgie,” he whispered, “you cannot af- 
ford to buy this one. I am sorry. Don’t 
you think you better take that second one ? 
That seemed like a pretty good one, and you 
have just money enough for it.” 

Georgie only shook his head. 

“But, Georgie,” urged the tall, eighteen- 
year-old brother, “the Commencement con- 
cert is only two days off now, and you have 
just your old fiddle. You can’t do your best 
on that.” 

The shop-keeper waited. Georgie turned 
to him. “I’ll give you all the money I have 
for a violin, if you will let me come and play 
on this one when I can.” 

The old man shrugged his shoulders. 
“Come when you please,” he said, “but I 
may sell him any day.” 

“I don’t see what you are thinking about. 






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THE MAGIC BOX 


91 


Georgie,’^ grumbled Lincoln, as they walked 
home. ‘‘When we have been waiting five 
years for a real Commencement and at last 
are going to have our first graduating class 
from the Mission School with all the grand 
visitors and everybody, and then you are 
going to play on your old fiddle!’’ 

But Georgie did not seem to hear. 

‘‘Perhaps he will change his mind, when 
he thinks it over,” said Mr. Copeland 
kindly. 

When they reached home, Lincoln slipped 
away to his corner of the Mission farm. 
Since he had decided that he wanted to be a 
specialist in agriculture, the teacher had al- 
lowed him, a senior boy, one acre to do with 
as he pleased. It was separated from the 
rest of the farm by a hedge, and here he had 
worked and experimented. Here was a little 
orchard of fruit trees, all of which Lincoln 
had grafted himself. The fruit was develop- 
ing finely. He laughed to himself as he 
thought of the wonderful tree he had wanted 
to invent when he was a little boy. In the 
sun outside of his orchard lay his tiny cotton 


92 


THE MAGIC BOX 


patch and his little field of corn. He had ex- 
perimented with the fertilizer, and not a com 
patch or a cotton patch on all the Mission 
farm or, for that matter, on all the farms 
in the county which Lincoln had seen, could 
come anywhere near his plants. He looked 
at the cotton carefully, drawing out his 
pocket magnifying glass. The horrible boll- 
weevil had not yet reached their county. 
But it was coming, everybody said. Oh, if 
he could only discover some way of stopping 
the pest before it reached them, how many 
people it would save from poverty and want ! 

Then he drew out his little old blue tin 
box. He had taken lately to carrying it in 
his pocket all the time, for was it not a 
magic box ? It held all his future under the 
old battered lid. There were the three silver 
dollars — ^the one dated 1912 which Mr. Cope- 
land had given him so long ago, the one he 
had earned driving the milk wagon for old 
Mr. Simmons, and the one dollar he had 
made up North. All the money he had been 
able to save for college since, was repre- 
sented in the little brown leather bank book 


THE MAGIC BOX 


93 


whicli lay on top of the coins. He opened 
the book and read over the balance again, 
although he already knew it by heart. Yes, 
there would be enough for his next year at 
Hampton, and then — and then — could he 
go to the agricultural school of the big 
Northern university? Well — and he drew 
a long breath — ^he was going to try. He 
glanced up at the sun. He would be late for 
supper. 

He shuffled along under the elms. He 
wouldn’t walk under them so many times 
more, and he smiled to remember that it 
was here he had found ‘‘Old Skinflint’s” 
pocketbook. But “Old Skinflint” hadn’t 
lived up to his name after all. He had 
turned out to be one of Lincoln’s best 
friends. 

“Where’s Georgie?” asked his mother as 
he entered the kitchen. 

“Why I don’t know. Mammy,” he an- 
swered, “I thought he was here.” 

In his own room that evening, Lincoln 
studied the football pictures on the wall. 
He was the best football player at the Mis- 


94 


THE 3MAGIC BOX 


sion School. Mr. Leland had told him of 
colored boys who had been even on the 
Varsity teams. Perhaps — ^perhaps — and 
Lincoln fell to dreaming over his agricul- 
ture notebook. 

Suddenly he looked up. Where was 
Georgie? He had not come in to study. 
He glanced at the clock. It was ten, and the 
rest of the family had gone to bed. Where 
was he ? Lincoln ran to the door and looked 
down the road. Some one was moving care- 
fully along in the shadows. He waited. 
Then he saw that the person limped. ‘‘Why, 
Georgie,’’ he exclaimed, running up to him, 
“where have you been? And — Georgie — 
what is that — in your coat ? ’ ’ 

“It — iVs the violin,” answered Georgie in 
a trembling voice. 

“But how — did you get it?” asked Lin- 
coln. 

“I — I ran down to play on it again this 
afternoon — ^he said I could. And I was 
playing in the back room and a man came in 
the store. I heard him ask old Isaac about 
the violin. He said he thought he would 


THE MAGIC BOX 


95 


come to-morrow to buy it. Ob, I couldn’t 
lose it. I couldn’t ! So I just wrapped my 
coat about it while old Isaac had stepped out 
a moment, and ran home. I left the case 
in its place.” 

‘‘Georgie! You’ve stolen it,” exclaimed 
Lincoln in a startled whisper. 

^‘No, no!” answered Georgie. ‘‘It be- 
longs to old Isaac. No, I would not steal it. 
I — I just — couldn’t have the man buy it 
and take it away where I would never see it 
again.” 

“We must take it right back !” cried Lin- 
coln. “Come, hurry, before old Isaac finds 
out.” 

“But then he will sell it,” sobbed Georgie. 
“I can’t, Lin, I can’t!” 

‘ ‘ Hurry, ’ ’ answered his brother. ‘ ‘ Come, 
we must run. Here, give it to me, I can 
carry it.” 

“You’ll hurt it!” cried Georgie. 

“No. Hurry.” And catching hold of 
Georgie ’s arm, Lincoln stumbled with him 
across the fields. “Hurry, hurry,” he kept 
urging. 


96 


THE MAGIC BOX 


The streets of the town were dark when 
the panting boys reached them, but a dim 
light still burned in the back room of old 
Isaac’s shop. With a trembling hand Lin- 
coln knocked. 

‘‘Here it is,” he panted, as the old man 
opened the door. “Here — ” and he held out 
the violin. 

In speechless astonishment old Isaac 
looked at them. 

“He — ^he borrowed it,” explained Lin- 
coln. 

Then the old man recognized the violin. 
“What!” he exclaimed, “you — ^you steal my 
violin — ^my best violin?” 

“No — nol” broke in Georgie. 

“I will have you arrested — I will call in 
the police — ” 

“No, no,” begged Lincoln. “No, don’t 
you understand? We have brought it 
back—” 

“Oh, Mr. Isaac,” cried Georgie, “I will 
work for you all the rest of my life if you 
will only keep the violin and let me play 
on it.” 


THE MAGIC BOX 


97 


‘‘Never!” exclaimed the old man. 
“Never come into my sight again!” 

“Oh-h!” sobbed Georgie. 

“Here, — ^here,” urged Lincoln, and taking 
the old, blue tin box out of his pocket he 
pressed it into Isaac’s hands. “I will buy 
the violin of you. Here is the bank book, 
see? I will give it to you, and — and the 
three dollars besides. That — ^that will pay 
for it.” 

“Let me see — ^not so fast,” exclaimed the 
old man. “Yes, yes, I see. That is right. 
Yes, I will keep the book for surety, and 
later you will go with me to the bank and 
draw out the money.” 

“After Commencement,” promised Lin- 
coln. 

“Yes,” answered old Isaac, and he placed 
the violin in Georgie ’s arms. 

Lincoln glanced at the empty tin box lying 
on the counter. He would not need it any 
more. 

Georgie carried the violin home as if it 
had been something alive and talked to it all 
the way, while his brother stumbled wearily 


98 


THE MAGIC BOX 


by bis side. It was all over, he thought. He 
would never go to college. 

It was nearly morning before Lincoln fell 
asleep and then he did not waken until the 
sun streamed full in his face. Georgie was 
perched on the foot of his bed looking at 
him. ‘^Lin,’^ he said hoarsely, ^‘was that 
your school money?” 

But Lincoln did not answer. ‘‘You do 
your best at the concert, Georgie, boy,” he 
said, “and make us all proud.” And then 
he hurried out. 

The next day would be Commencement. 
The boys decorated the school and no one 
worked harder than Lincoln. He wanted to 
forget. As he tacked up festoons and car- 
ried jars of water, he kept thinking that he 
must speak to Mr. Copeland or Mr. Leland. 
He must tell them that he had changed his 
mind and would work on the school farm the 
next year. 

It was late that night when he reached 
home and Georgie seemed to be sleeping 
soundly. Lincoln looked at him. Georgie 
would be lame all his life, while he had two 


THE MAGIC BOX 


99 


strong legs which could carry him anywhere. 
And then Georgie’s wonderful, wonderful 
gift ! It was right that he should have the 
big chance. Lincoln felt ashamed that he 
had not thought of that before. 

The next morning all was hurry and 
bustle. Lincoln put on his fine new suit, for 
at ten o’clock he would graduate. His 
mother bustled in and out getting ready, and 
Caroline dashed in at the last moment to 
fasten a fiower in his button hole. 

‘Ht’s my Commencement gift to you,” 
she said as she laughed. 

‘‘Hurry,” exclaimed Lincoln, “I’m late.” 

“Wait a minute,” called Georgie, limping 
up. “Here’s my Commencement gift for 
you,” and he pressed into Lincoln’s hand a 
neat little white paper parcel. 

“Thank you, thank you,” called Lincoln, 
“but I must run!” 

Proudly the Negro boys and girls received 
their diplomas from the hands of the Secre- 
tary of the Mission Board, who was making 
a special visit to bestow them upon the first 
class to graduate. 


100 


THE MAGIC BOX 


Then Mr. Copeland rose and read the list 
of honors. ^^The highest in agriculture,” 
he said, ‘‘belongs to Lincoln Roosevelt 
Hall!” There was loud applause. “Lin- 
coln will enter Hampton Institute in the 
fall,” he continued. “We have received 
his acceptance this week ; and then, we hope, 
after one year, he will represent us in a big 
Northern university — our first Belton 
Academy college man ! ’ ’ Again all the boys 
and girls and all the visitors clapped until 
the noise was deafening. 

Lincoln bowed his head. Oh, if he had 
only told Mr. Copeland the day before about 
the change! How could he ever tell him 
now? 

And then came the musical program as the 
close of the exercises. Last was Georgie’s 
turn. Smilingly he rose and took his place 
by the piano. The accompanist played the 
opening bars of the “Largo.” What was 
that? Lincoln nearly rose from his seat 
among the graduates. Georgie was placing 
the old fiddle under his chin! It was old 
Uncle Ebenezer’s fiddle! Where was the 


THE MAGIC BOX 


101 


beautiful new violin? Was Georgie crazy? 
Wbat had happened to it ? 

Then suddenly Lincoln clapped his hands 
upon his breast pocket. With trembling 
fingers he drew out the hard little white par- 
cel. He tore off the paper. There was the 
old, battered blue tin box. He lifted the lid. 
In it lay his little brown bank book, and — 
yes, the three silver dollars ! 

^‘He took it back,’’ he whispered. ^‘He 
took it back!” 

But the music was swelling to a triumph- 
ant close. How did he get all those joyful 
voices singing together out of the old fiddle ? 
To Lincoln it seemed even more beautiful 
than the new violin as the happy voices soft- 
ened in the last stately bars. 

Again and again the people applauded. 
And then Georgie placed the old fiddle once 
more under his chin. This time it was a 
merry little dance tune. One could fairly 
see the fairies come tripping out of the wood, 
to dance in a mad revel. One heard their 
laughter as, with one last little fiing, they 
vanished. 


102 


THE MAGIC BOX 


At the end everybody began congratulat- 
ing everybody else, but Lincoln went 
straight to bis brother. A strange visitor 
from the North was talking to him. ‘‘I 
would like to engage you now for my 
church,’’ he was saying, ‘‘and that will give 
you an opportunity, with the money you 
earn there, to attend the conservatory. You 
have a gift which ought to be cultivated. 
Will you come?” 

“If Mammy and Pappy will let me,” an- 
swered Georgie, his face alight. Tremu- 
lously the mother and father consented. 

“He really hasn’t a decent violin, Dr. Syl- 
vester,” said Mr. Copeland, “but I do not 
see why he should not have. He has looked 
at a very excellent one here. I don’t see 
why, Georgie,” he continued, turning to 
him, “now that you will have a regular posi- 
tion, you can not get that violin on the in- 
stalment plan. I’ll just step to the ’phone 
and ask old Isaac, now. ’ ’ Down out of sight 
Lincoln gripped Georgie ’s hand hard. It 
was the happiest moment of Georgie ’s 
happy day. 


THE MAGIC BOX 


103 


And then proud sister Caroline came up, 
quite a young woman now. ‘‘Why, why,’’ 
exclaimed the big Secretary. “Here’s our 
little nurse. I tell you. Dr. Sylvester, this 
girl as well as the rest of the people here, 
worked hard for our hospital, and when we 
open it in the fall she will be our first can- 
didate nurse.” 

“It’s yours, Georgie,” Mr. Copeland 
called out as he rejoined them. “Isaac is 
sending it right up.” He looked quizzically 
at the two brothers. “That is, Georgie, it’s 
yours if you can work for it.” 

“I surely will!” promised Georgie. 

“We all will work if we only get the 
chance,” added Lincoln. 

“We aim to work — and to help,” added 
Caroline. 






